


Sweater Weather

by rabidchild67



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:21:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabidchild67/pseuds/rabidchild67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim and Spock on their honeymoon cuddle up for warmth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song of the same name by The Neighbourhood (and I can’t get it out of my BRAIN and it just screamed Space Husbands to me, ALL RIGHT?).
> 
> This story lives in the same universe as Letter Never Sent and Dead Letter Office, and I'd embed helpful links here if AO3 wasn't being such a bitch about it.

“Would you just look at that?” Jim enthused from the door of the cabin. “ _Look, Spock!_ ”

“Yes, the mountain views are as they were when we arrived last night.”

“But look!” Jim insisted, turning from the waist and scratching idly at his bare chest. 

Spock paused in the middle of the cabin’s great room, taking in the sight before him, the mountain vista outside paling in comparison to the view of his bondmate looking relaxed and perfect in the morning light. To say Jim took his breath away would be the height of illogic, and yet Spock detected a 0.03 second pause in his breathing as he took in Jim’s shining eyes, the soft freckles on his shoulders, and the way his sleep-mussed hair swirled around his head in a clockwise direction. 

“Beautiful,” Spock said simply, continuing on his way across the room and handing Jim a mug of coffee. They stood in the doorway and took in the view together, Spock standing behind Jim with his arm around his waist, thumb toying with the fine hairs around Jim’s navel.

“I haven’t been up here since I was twelve,” Jim said wistfully. “It’s even better than I remembered.” 

It had been a whirlwind month for them both – the crisis with Spock’s _pon farr_ and subsequent rejection by T’Pring had led to Jim’s stepping in to be Spock’s bondmate; this had been followed by Earth-style nuptials in Iowa, at Winona’s insistence. Jim was ever-apologetic, but Spock was inclined to give him anything he wanted, everything he had, really. He’d never believed Jim could be his, not like this, not forever, but Jim’s simple sacrifice (though Jim would hesitate to call it that) in standing up for Spock had saved the half-Vulcan’s life. Now they were on their honeymoon, at Jim’s Uncle Roddy’s ranch in Wyoming, with an entire week of this peace and togetherness before them. 

Spock mentally caressed the site of their bond, rose-golden in his mind’s eye – like Jim – and felt his husband shiver in his arms in response. 

“Never get tired of you in my head,” Jim murmured, and leaned back against Spock, resting his head on Spock’s shoulder. 

Spock pulled him even closer and pressed his lips to Jim’s ear. “What shall we do today?”

“There’s this place I remember up on the ridge where you can see the entire valley – I want to take you on a ride up there. I want to share it with you.”

“I would know all of the important details of your life.” 

“Ever ridden a horse?”

“I have not. Is it a difficult skill to master?”

Jim shrugged. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know.” 

\----

“This is not pleasant,” Spock informed Jim as the beast he rode upon bounced him along the trail.

“Spock, I know perfect posture is a Vulcan’s birthright or something, but you will regret it if you don’t loosen your hips,” Jim said.

Spock did as his bondmate suggested and the going became marginally easier, though he feared for the effect this activity was having on his spinal column. 

It was thankfully not that much longer when they arrived at the spot that Jim wanted to visit. The way ahead was densely populated with conifers whose low branches made riding difficult, so they got down from the horses and led them along instead. A short climb later, they came through the trees where, suddenly, the most breathtaking view of the surrounding mountains and the valley below was laid out before them. Spock could not help a slight intake of breath as he beheld it.

“I knew you’d like it,” Jim said, smiling proudly and sliding an arm around Spock’s waist. 

“It is as nothing I would have expected.” Spock’s previous experiences on Earth had placed him in San Francisco, New York, and once for a training exercise in Death Valley, but nowhere so mountainous. He was reminded of Vulcan suddenly – and illogically, since this place bore no resemblance to the bleak, red, and unforgiving rocks of his home world. 

Feeling his melancholy, Jim reached up with his other hand and caressed his cheek. “I grieve with thee.”

Spock leaned into his touch and let the sadness leach slowly away. They were here on their honeymoon and he would not spoil it.

“Hungry?”

“I could eat,” Spock replied, co-opting a phrase often used by Doctor McCoy.

Jim laughed, lightly, and his good humor lifted Spock’s mood. They parted and set about laying out a blanket and the pre-packaged food Jim had replicated.

They ate and chatted about everything and nothing at once: their wedding and who got drunker (Scotty or Winona); Jim’s childhood memories of Wyoming; Spock’s mother’s fondness for Terran fairy tales. When they were done, they lay down on the blanket in each other’s arms, Spock with his head on Jim’s chest. Spock let Jim’s heartbeat lull him to sleep.

When he woke, Spock was curled up on his side, facing away from Jim, shivering. He sat up, rubbed at his arms, and noticed that the sun had moved and the area where they had been picnicking was now cast in shadow. He leaned forward to try to stimulate his legs as well.

Jim stirred, rolled over and peered at him. “We fell asleep? What time is it?”

“It is 15:29 local t-t-time.”

Jim was instantly alert. “Are you shivering?” Before Spock could answer in the affirmative, Jim had sat up, pulled Spock to face him, and was rubbing warm hands up and down Spock’s arms. “Gotta get you warmed up,” he muttered.

Owing to his unique, hybrid nature, Spock had not inherited the Vulcan ability to voluntarily regulate his body temperature; as a result, he was prone to circulatory problems when exposed to extreme cold. He did not think the temperature here was cool enough to harm him, but it was clear that Jim was taking no chances. 

Jim took Spock’s hands in his and he hissed. “They’re like ice! Oh, Sweetheart! Come here.” Jim inched closer to Spock and unbuttoned the thick, hand-made cardigan he wore. He pulled Spock into his lap and hugged him close, placing Spock’s arms around his middle. He then stretched the sweater around them both, buttoning it at Spock’s back. Getting the idea, Spock hooked his hands together behind Jim’s back and rested his head on Jim’s shoulder, burying his nose against Jim’s neck.

“That better?” Jim asked.

“You are very warm.”

“You’re as cold as ice – God, your nose!”

“My apologies.” Spock pulled his face away, but Jim guided his head back to where it had been and held him close. 

“There, isn’t that nice?”

“I fear our appearance is less than dignified.”

“There’s no one to see but the horses, and they’re not talking.”

Spock pressed his lips to Jim’s neck. “They had better not.”

After several minutes, Spock began to feel warmer, so Jim suggested they head back to the cabin and build a fire. He also insisted Spock sit in front of him on one of the horses, leading the other behind them.

“Spock,” Jim said as they rode. “Are you not wearing your thermal?”

“I did not think of it.”

“Well no wonder you’re freezing. Weather’s pretty changeable up here.”

“C-clearly.” Spock shivered and Jim held him tighter, taking up the reins and urging the horse to move a bit faster.

Once they’d returned to the cabin, Jim wrapped Spock up in nearly every blanket he could find as he built a fire. 

“Here’s some spice tea.” Jim sat down on the arm of the chair Spock was sitting in and leaned against him, sipping at a bottle of beer. “This reminds me of that time on Numex Alpha when we were stuck in the shuttle because of an ion storm – you remember? You didn’t wear your thermals then and I thought you were going to shake right apart!”

Spock made a noncommittal noise and sipped his tea, which was scorching, just the way he liked it. Of course he remembered – Jim hadn’t left his side for a second, even though Doctor McCoy had forced him to spend the night in sickbay for observation. Jim had sat beside him in an uncomfortable chair, holding Spock’s cold hands in his until Spock fell asleep.

“And then there was that time you fell into the tidal pools on Naridia. I’ve never seen you so clumsy before. I had to give you my shirts to wear – remember?”

Spock did remember: Jim walking around in nothing but his uniform pants for hours while Spock’s clothes dried; when the landing party finally found them, Jim had to hastily pull Spock’s tunic on to cover himself, and the sight of him wearing Spock’s clothes had been almost as appealing as the memory of him walking around on the beach.

“You know, sometimes I swear you do these things on purpose,” Jim said with a laugh. “But that would be completely illogical.”

“Yes, completely.” 

\----

Thank you for your time.

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on Tumblr @rabidchild67, I hope you'll consider following me there.


End file.
